The Fight
by Perennial5
Summary: Making it big doesn't always improve one's attitude. Once-ler doesn't bother to spend time with his brothers anymore. Brett wants to know why.


**The Fight**

**Trigger warnings:**** Ableism, small, not very graphic singular mention of child abuse. Keep yourself safe folks.**

There was a knock at his door. Once-ler looked up from his paperwork, glancing at the massive doube-doors that led into his office. He checked his watch. It was late. 4 AM kind of late, when the hours of the night began to turn into the hours of the morning. Maybe, if he ignored it, whoever it was would go away.

No such luck. Another knock, 4 loud knocks precisely, rang through the room. Someone really wanted in. He groaned, and shouted, "Come in!"

The door was almost flung open by one of his brothers, who was dressed in his pajamas. Yellow, white pinstriped jammies. Had to be Brett.

"What do you want?" Once-ler asked, going back to signing the various sheets of paperwork he'd put off until now. His pen slid over the papers in an almost careless manner. If only assistants could sign for you.

"I need to talk to you," Brett said, words sounding like he had to pry them straight out of the back of his throat.

Once-ler looked up. It was serious, emotional, if the words needed to be pried out that bad. "Did ma give you grief again? I gave her the money, she shouldn't be on your case."

"That ain't it."

"Then what is it? I don't have all night."

"You don't have any time for me 'n Chett no more," Brett said. "You never come around no more. You make us deal with ma all by ourselves."

Once-ler scoffed. "I throw enough money at her to keep you guys out of the crossfire."

"All that did was make her ignore us."

"I can't help that I'm the favorite child. You know ma hates-" he cut himself off just in time, putting a hand to his mouth.

"What does ma hate?"

"It's nothing. Not important."

"You tell me right now what you was about to say."

Once-ler sighed. It was the truth, wasn't it? Why not say it? "You know ma wanted normal children. Me being successful was just the cherry on top of the normal cake."

Brett's usually flat expression didn't betray anything. Once-ler started to get a little bit nervous.

"So that's what you think of us, huh?" Brett asked, voice deathly low, almost a hiss. "That why you never come around no more?"

"No, and I don't think that, it's just how it is. It's fact. That's how ma thinks."

"Yer a terrible liar, Once."

"I'm not lying. It's not you or Chett's fault you were born, uh," he stopped, and made a spastic gesture around his head, "like that."

"Like what?"

"Well, you know."

"Everyone tip toes around it. No one ever tells us nothing. No one told us why we was always seeing doctors and getting weird tests done up at the school. We don't know anything about it," Brett replied, clearly frustrated. His teeth ground together and his left side was getting a little twitchy.

"Well, you guys were born a little, uh, slow."

"Slow?! SLOW?!" Brett practically exploded. "I was doing calculus in 5th grade! Chett was at a high school reading level at the age of 6! How the hell is that slow to you?!"

"Look, I'm just telling you what ma and the doctors said. You'd better go calm down before you throw one of your little mental hissy fits. They're embarrassing," Once-ler said, pen still gliding over the papers set before him. And, in the split second after those words had left his mouth, he heard the same sentences echo in his head, only in his mother's voice. Pen lifted from paper, eyes shortly following.

"Is that all my feelings are to you? Just little hissy fits that ain't important and that you can ignore? What, you got so buddy buddy with ma you're picking up her brain waves?!" Chett borderline shouted. "You abandoned us! You could of taken us with and gotten us out of that house! You left us to rot with ma! You didn't even call! YOU DIDN'T CARE!"

"Look, I ain't y'all's keeper! I had my own life to lead! Y'all were 20, y'all could've left at any time!" Once-ler ground out, lapsing into his dreaded southern accent. He shook his head to correct it.

"You KNOW ma didn't let us keep any money. You KNOW she didn't pay us for helping with the family business. How the hell could we have left?"

"Oh, shut up. You all could've gotten a job at the grocery store in Cantertown."

"It's too loud in there. Chett almost had a breakdown every time we went in there."

"How about you guys just get over it? Have your hissy fit when you get home?"

"You KNOW that ain't how it works!"

Once-ler rolled his eyes. "The couple other slow kids at the school didn't have fits all the time." He was just slinging out words now. He wanted Brett to leave. He didn't have time to deal with him; he had mounds of paperwork just piling up on his desk that needed tending to.

"Ever since you've gotten into this Thneed business you've turned into a careless, mean snake like ma!"

Once-ler shot out of his seat, posture as straight and severe as a board. "Don't compare me to that woman! I ain't nothing like her!"

"Yeah you are. You never called us slow before all this," Brett said, gesturing to the lavish office they currently occupied. The space stretched out between them, and though he was thoroughly pissed off, he just wanted to close that distance and have his brother back. "It don't matter. Me and Chett just want you to come around more. We miss you."

"Well, I don't care! You compared me to that… that thing! Y'all are just like her, too. You was always laughing with her when she was reaming me out and pretending it warn't a big deal. You even laughed at me when I went out to sell my Thneed! And look, it was a success. Bet y'all feel pretty stupid now, huh?"

Brett hunched over a bit, looking down at his feet. "I'm sorry. I don't- I'm not- I ain't sure why we did that. We thought it was all in fun, like when we used to rough house. Then ma started doing it to Chett and we realized it was wrong."

Once-ler tried to pick the best sentence that would get Brett outside of his office as fast as possible. "If it took y'all that long to figure out it hurt me, then y'all really are slow," he spat. He walked over to Brett, making himself tall as he could, towering over him despite only being a couple inches taller. "Get out of my office before I make you."

Brett physically flinched, and looked far away for a moment, and then darted out of the office like he had rabid dogs on his tail.

Once-ler didn't realize what he'd done until he'd returned to his seat and had begun finishing up the paperwork. It came to him in a flippant memory. Watching Brett be backed into a corner by ma after he'd dropped a cup and shattered it. Watching Brett be screamed at and smacked. Hearing the words "WE CAIN'T AFFORD TO BE BUYING NEW CUPS WITH YOU DROPPING 'EM ALL THE TIME," echoing around his head in his mother's voice.

He dropped the papers. He stared at the small scuff marks on the plastic surface of his desk. Then, he lit himself a cigar, and realized his mother would be proud of him for taking charge. She'd be proud of him. She'd be congratulating him right now.

Maybe he was his mother.


End file.
